Would You Rather?
by InfinityAgent
Summary: The senior staff is forced to take part in a sadistic version of the popular party game. Based on the gruesome 2012 horror movie with the same title. (4/4)
1. Steaks and Stakes

**A/N: I saw the movie about a month ago and just couldn't get it out of my head. THERE WILL BE BLOOD. THERE WILL BE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED; PROCEED WITH CAUTION.**

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One minute we were on the bridge, the next… the entire senior staff (minus the Doctor) had been transported down into some sort of parlor. They all looked to me, as if I had any idea what we were doing there. I was only minutes after we'd entered orbit around an occupied planet and had tried unsuccessfully to make contact with the warp-capable inhabitants. To us this seemed like a rude gesture, but perhaps it was just their customary way of saying hello. No need to get alarmed just yet.

"Welcome, guests." An invisible voice, over some sort of communication system. "Your host will be with you shortly. Please make yourselves comfortable in the meantime." No apologies for bringing us here. No further explanation on what the hell was going on.

"Well…" Tom finally broke the silence, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to have a drink." I hadn't even noticed the well-stocked bar positioned carefully in the corner. Was it even safe to be drinking alien chemicals? Nobody said anything as he marched over and mixed himself a drink like he'd done it a hundred times before. "Could be a bit stronger, but not bad." After a moment, Harry followed Tom's lead and did the same. We spread out then, searching the room for clues as to who our 'host' was or perhaps a means of getting back to the ship. As our COMM badges had mysteriously vanished during the transport process, it was clear that there was going to be no simple solution. Perhaps it would be best just to follow along with whatever the 'hosts' wanted and hope everything would turn out for the better.

We didn't get much of a chance to think about it, because soon a door opened up and a tall, bulky humanoid dressed in something that looked very much like a suit stepped out. He didn't speak, simply gesturing us to follow him through the doorway. We all hesitantly complied (some a little more hesitant than others) and were led to what looked like a grand dining room lit by the glow of an ornate chandelier that dangled from the vaulted ceiling. Another man of the same species rose from his chair at the end of a long wooden table with nine chairs. Just the right amount, how convenient.

"Welcome, come in!" He smiled, putting few of my doubts at ease. It didn't look like there was any imminent danger, but one could never be too sure. What if they were just trying to draw us in before the strike? We knew nothing about this culture. Some great first contact. "I understand that you want to make a trade with us." Since we'd never actually established any sort of communication, I was surprised that he knew this. But then again, most of the travelers who came this way most likely had the same goal in mind. Fair enough; it would save us some explaining.

"That's right." I stepped away from the group, slowly approaching this mysterious alien. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway and these are my high-ranking officers, though I suspect you already know that. Who are you?"

"I'll be your host tonight. You may address me as such, although I prefer that you do not address me at all. Please, take a seat so we can have our full introductions." Harry sat the closest on my side of the table to the host, Chakotay between us. To my right was Tom and across him sat Seven. Following to her right: B'Elanna, Neelix, and then Tuvok. We had just finished introducing ourselves and where we'd come from right as a wait staff brought in what I assumed was to be our dinner. It looked like some sort of meat and cooked plant-life, accompanied by a burgundy liquid in crystal glassware. Nobody made any kind of movement to pick up the silverware or even to place his or her napkin in their lap.

"Beats replicated food." B'Elanna finally reasoned, deciding just to have at the meal. Nobody had said it _wasn't_ replicated, but there was only one way to find out. I was a little less receptive to the idea of eating the mysterious foreign meal, but the host was eating it too… so it really couldn't be so bad… could it? I didn't want to look like a poor guest, so I ended up picking up the utensils and cut into the meat, which was surprisingly tender. As it turned out, it tasted kind of like a medium-rare steak. Replicated food couldn't even come near the quality of this.

"It's delicious." I complimented, causing the host to beam proudly.

"Yes, it's a delica-" The host cut himself off sharply when his eyes fell on my security officer's plate. "Why Mr. Tuvok, you haven't even touched your j'Karr."

"As a Vulcan, I am vegetarian." The security officer patiently explained. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd been through this plenty of times before.

"Oh." The host nodded, "I understand. I really do. But how much would it cost for you to eat it?"

"I would not eat it." Tuvok replied, voice unwavering.

"What about enough energy to boost your replicators… say 300% for three months?" The math didn't immediately register in my mind, but I knew offhand that it was quite a lot. When the host had offered compensation I had expected a form of credit, but this was much, much more valuable.

"Are you being serious?" Tom asked from the other side of the table.

"Completely." The host scoffed, as if it had been a stupid question. "I can transfer it over right now."

"What's the catch?" I cut in, not wanting to be caught in some sort of bargain we couldn't fulfill.

"Catch? There is no catch. All he has to do is eat an entire j'Karr roast." The man pulled out an electronic device I couldn't identify.

"I will not eat the j'Karr." Tuvok stubbornly continued with the vegetables.

"Good man, I knew you were no fool." The host grinned, "Here's my second and final offer; 3,000% for the next three months?" That didn't even make sense. But it did sound like a hell of a lot of power. We might even be able to convert it and channel it into something more useful. Tuvok looked once at his plate, once at me, and then back at the alien. "What do you say, Tuvok? You could have all the veggies you wanted for three whole months." The Vulcan frowned then, but then silently picked up his knife and began to cut into the meat. I couldn't believe it!

"You don't have to do it." Chakotay attempted to dissuade the Vulcan, but the decision had already been made. If Tuvok was human, I'm sure he would have grimaced. I felt bad for him, but proud at the same time. The power would ease our lives greatly in the months to come, and would help advance our progress back to the Alpha Quadrant.

"You see, that wasn't so hard." The man at the end of the table pushed a few buttons on his device. "Already done. That was fun, wasn't it!" I wouldn't go that far. Useful, sure. Fun though? "You there, down at the end. Seven of Nine, was it? You haven't tasted your wine! It goes very well with the j'Karr, I suggest you try it."

"I do not drink." The ex-Borg stiffened, most likely remembering times when she'd had a little too much. It didn't mix well with her implants.

"Are you sure about that?" Uh oh. We all had a good idea where this was going. "If you drink that entire glass, I'll match the amount I just paid to your ship." Seven was looking to me now for help. I wasn't sure what she wanted me to do; the choice was up to her. It wouldn't kill her to just do it, really one glass of wine most likely wouldn't even do anything to get her buzzed.

"It's not so bad." Harry encouraged, "You'll like it." I nodded a little at Harry's words, which prompted her to pick up the glass, stare at it for a moment, and then begin taking long swallows from it. Even Seven had to know it wasn't the kind of drink that was meant to be chugged. But I could see why she wanted to get it over with.

"Good! Very good! See, there's nothing you wouldn't do with a little incentive." The host laughed, signaling for the wait staff to take away our mostly-empty dishes. "Dessert is going to have to wait; I'd like to play a little game. Tonight is all about choices, like the ones some of you just had to make. It's not always going to be easy, but I promise you'll receive a huge reward at the end."

"What do we have to do?" I asked, wanting to hear some of the rules before we agreed to anything.

"I'll ask you a question with two choices, and you'll have to choose. That's all there is to it." That didn't sound horrific. I used to play a variant of this 'would you rather' kind of thing with Phoebe as a kid. Harmless fun, very insightful when getting to know somebody. This was probably all it was; a test to see what kind of morals and codes our society valued over others. There were nods of agreement around the table.

"We'll play."

"Excellent! I'll go tell my assistants to prepare the instruments." Instruments? Maybe it was a little more involved than I'd thought. My fears were confirmed when a big machine was rolled out, two headsets attached by flimsy wires. One helmet was placed on Tom, the other on Seven. "This one's simple. That machine charges and delivers volts of electricity to the headsets, which will be transmitted to the wearer. We'll go around the table: you can choose to either shock yourself or the person to your right."

"That's barbaric!" I burst out, before I could help myself. We hadn't agreed to torture!

"And quite painful." The host nodded. "So choose carefully." He opened his mouth to continue, but Neelix quickly jumped to his feet, pushing back his chair with such force that it fell over on its side.

"I won't participate in this!" The Talaxian cried out, very upset. I was a little surprised in the urgency in his voice; none of us wanted to do it, but surely there was a more diplomatic solution than just shouting at the host. "Take me back to the ship!"

"Please, Mr. Neelix, sit down-" The man at the end of the table tried, but he was drowned out by more shouts of protest by Neelix, who was now at the door we'd all entered and was trying to push it open. "If you insist." Before any of us could react, the host stood and drew a handgun, firing from across the room at the Talaxian. The aim had been true, blasting right through Neelix's head and into the wooden door, where the bullet lodged itself into the intricate carving. All of us sat in absolute shock, unable to believe what we saw. Blood had sprayed everywhere, oh god, it was everywhere. On the walls, the floor, the ceiling… Neelix, that was Neelix. Holy fuck. He'd just shot Neelix! The thought didn't even register in my mind until two elegantly-clad men opened the door and quickly dragged the mostly-headless body out of the dining room. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?

* * *

 **A/N: and so it begins...**


	2. Consequences

"What the hell!" B'Elanna exclaimed, gripping the edge of the table so hard I feared she might actually break a piece off. Tom stared, transfixed by some of the white and pink brain matter that still lie scattered across the floor while poor Harry looked like he was going to be sick. Everyone else was focused on the host, who had put the gun back into his waistband and now sat back down at the table, adjusting his suit jacket.

"If it has not been made clear to you already, you may not leave until we are finished playing." He calmly stated as if nothing had transpired. I realized now that we were in much more danger than I'd anticipated; this wasn't just a madman, this was a sociopath. Who clearly had no regard for our lives, or even the cleanliness of his establishment. If we wanted to make it out alive, we would have to be more careful, more cunning. Mourn the loss of Neelix later, save our own lives now. The only way to do this was, apparently, to just play the 'game'. "Now. I'll give you each thirty seconds to make a decision. No more, no less. Mr. Paris, would you rather shock yourself or Seven of Nine?" The pilot wrenched his gaze away from the floor and looked at the occupant sitting across from him.

"Myself." Almost immediately, little to no thought given. Tom sat up a little straighter, eyes squeezed shut, before suddenly the helmet audibly buzzed to life and the shock was delivered. The pilot took it with as much grace as he could muster, letting out no sound but breathing heavily afterwards. Thankfully, he looked relatively unharmed. It was just a shock, even if it were painful. There were worse things. Getting shot, for example.

"Next one." The headpiece was removed from Tom and twisted around B'Elanna's head instead. "Seven of Nine, would you rather shock yourself or Ms. Torres?"

"Lieutenant Torres." As I'd expected, Seven also made her decision quickly.

"Seven!" B'Elanna hissed, glaring at the ex-Borg. I had assumed that we'd all just take it ourselves and not get messy here, but clearly Seven did not share the same sentiment.

"It is a game." Little remorse in Seven's voice. "You will survive." That was a little cold and uncalled for. I glared at her from across the table, but the astrometrics officer averted my gaze. B'Elanna was shocked and then the game continued. Tuvok allowed B'Elanna to pass on the punishment to him, as he didn't want her to have to do two in a row. When it came time to decide between him and Harry, Tuvok chose to take the shock again. Externally, there was no sign that he'd been hurt, but I knew that he wasn't as unaffected by pain as we all liked to pretend.

"Are you ok, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked, to which the Vulcan gave a small nod. Harry also decided to shock himself, but he was very visibly shaken by it, resting his head on the table afterwards as he composed himself. Chakotay's turn. I felt the panic rising up in my chest as the helmet was secured over me; it made it all feel so very real. I would have sworn that it tingled already, that the volts were slowly seeping into my brain. "Don't worry, I'm not going to shock you." He mumbled, a promise to which he carried out on. I planned on taking the damage as well; everyone else had made it through, so why should I? But even still, I couldn't help but feel uneasy about it.

"Ms. Janeway," I could hear the grin in the host's voice without even looking. The sick bastard liked this. He was actually enjoying this. What kind of culture was this? "Would you rather shock yourself or Mr. Paris?"

"Shock me." Tom urged, the moment the host had finished talking. "I can take it."

"No!" I wanted to shock him, I really did. It was that survival instinct telling me to preserve my own safety. But I couldn't hurt a member of my own crew. Especially not after he'd taken the punishment once already.

"Listen to him, Kathryn." Chakotay nudged me. "We need you in good health." Me? Why me? Sure I was the Captain, but that didn't make me any more important or valuable than anyone else at the table. I was torn; which strategy was better to follow? Keep the group equally weak or protect the individuals with a better chance at surviving?

"Ten seconds." The man at the end of the table warned. I didn't want to know what happened if a decision was not met by the time limit. Neelix's fate was certainly not something I wished to experience. I closed my eyes, trying to listen to that inner voice. But it wasn't there. There was no easy decision. "Five." Alright, Jesus.

"Tom." I blurted out. I immediately regretted my decision, but it was too late. The shocks were delivered. He slumped in his seat as the helmet was removed. "Hey." I squeezed his arm lightly, trying to elicit a response.

"I'm good." He groaned, slowly sitting up. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, but I still felt guilty. I could have prevented his pain.

"Alright, let's have a short recess." The host stood then and summoned his assistants, who removed the machine from the room. "Just relax; we'll continue on with the next round in a second." We'd all survived, but something told me it was only going to get worse from here.

"This is sick." A voice to my left. I was mildly surprised and horrified to find that it'd been Harry. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?" The alien man shrugged, "You want something from me, so why not take something from you as well? It's all in good fun, don't take it personally."

"We would have traded with you." The ensign continued. "You're sick!"

"Harry." I warned, not wanting his head to be blown off like the last 'guest' who tried to go against the host. The man simply waved it off, smiling. He left the room momentarily, leaving us mostly to ourselves. Assistants were putting down clear plastic on the floor, evidently not wanting to ruin more of the beautiful hardwood. At least he had priorities, even if they were in the wrong order. "Just stay strong," I tried to encourage, wanting to coach them through the game but having no idea how. "We can get through this, we just have to play as a team. You hear me? A team." This time, Seven caught my implications.

"There's no evidence to suggest this is a team-based game." She reasoned, "Our chances of survival might be greater if we played as individuals."

"The rest of us are going to make it out of here. Together." I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. "Are any of you seriously hurt?" Next to me, Tom was shaking slightly. He was probably the worst-looking at the moment, but he'd be alright. Nobody answered my query, which was slightly reassuring. In a few minutes, the host returned carrying two items: an icepick and a long, stiff, leather whip-like rod.

"This is going to be an amusing one." The host grinned, handing me the objects before heading back to his own seat. "I think you all have a pretty good grasp of the rules by now. You'll have forty-five seconds to make your decision this round." An unpleasantly long pause, in which he made awkwardly long eye contact with each remaining player. "Kathryn, would you rather stab Chakotay in the leg with an icepick, or whip Harry three times?" I was momentarily stunned by the mere shock factor of my choices. Neither!

"Choosing to stab is potentially more lethal." Tuvok quickly came to my aid, advising me of the risks. He was right of course; there were major blood pathways in the thighs and if I struck in the wrong place, Chakotay would die for sure. Harry, on the other hand, would probably survive a couple of lashes. Maybe the decision wasn't as hard as I'd anticipated.

"I'll take the whip." God, I couldn't believe I was doing this. The host had Harry sit sideways on the chair so that the back of his uniform was fully exposed and then had me come stand right behind him. He instructed me not to go easy, or else I would be forced to hit Harry even more times. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." How could I be a captain after this?

"It's fine." Harry tried to smile, tried to be brave. "Just get it over with." I closed my eyes, raised back the arm with the whip, and then brought it down as hard as I could bring myself to. The host accepted the blow, but informed me that I'd better go a little harder or else we'd have to restart. So I gave him the two other hits, trying to ignore the way that he flinched and whimpered with pain every time the rod came down against his back. I quickly and quietly returned to my seat, a little worried that I might vomit. It was alright, I tried to tell myself. Harry would be fine. There was nothing that the Doctor couldn't fix, as long as we all made it back to the ship.

"Good." The host continued on, "Chakotay, would you rather stab Harry with an icepick, or whip him three times?"

"Now wait just a minute," Chakotay frowned, "How is that fair? Shouldn't the whip punishment move on to Tuvok?" No answer, "But Harry just had it!"

"It's fine, Commander." The ensign coughed, "I'd rather have the whip." There was nothing else to do. Now that I could see Harry's face, I felt even worse. He had bitten his lip so hard to prevent himself from screaming that blood had started to trail out the corner of his mouth, eyes tearing up and starting to go out of focus. But he'd survived. Harry crossed his arms on the table, resting his head face-down on them.

"This is where things start to get interesting. Harry: would you rather stab Tuvok with an icepick or have Chakotay whip you three more times?" Shock from around the table. Is this how the entire round would go on?

"I can take it." The brave little ensign croaked, voice only over a whisper. Yes he could take it, but for how much longer? It was then that I realized that it must be some sort of twisted punishment for Harry speaking out against the game right before the 'recess'. Vile. Just evil, plain and simple. Chakotay took his uniform jacket off so that Harry could have something the bite down on, and to soak up some of the blood. After the blows were delivered, Harry sat slumped against the table, alive but mostly unresponsive. There were streaks of wet blood on the whip now. I couldn't see Harry's back, but I really didn't want to; it must have been a mess by that point. I wished I could reach over and comfort the ensign, do anything to ease any of the pain.

"Tuvok, would you rather stab B'Elanna with an icepick or whip Harry three times?" An even more impossible question than it had been previously.

"I don't know if he can take much more of that." B'Elanna was staring at the ensign, her friend. Tuvok apparently agreed because he ultimately decided to go ahead and stab the engineer. However, the moment the blade penetrated her skin, blood began to spurt from the wound. It became very clear to us that the Vulcan had not studied up on his half-Human half-Klingon anatomy (as if either of the halves would have been easy in themselves). "Holy fucking shit! Tuvok!" The Vulcan merely stared at the wound, in a sort of panicked stupor.

"B'Elanna!" Tom quickly tore off his jacket and tossed it at Seven. "Here, tie it around her leg! Tightly! It'll slow the blood!" The ex-Borg quickly did as she was told, although it did little to ease the flow. "Oh god!" My thoughts exactly. He quickly stood up, probably intending on running around to the other side to be with the engineer. The alien man pounded his fist on the table once, scaring Tom into sitting back down. "But she's my-"

"Enough of that, we must continue the game." The host ushered for the tools to be put into B'Elanna's rapidly paling hands. She was tough, but was starting to look a little woozy from both the blood loss and the shock. "Ms. Torres, would you rather stab Seven of Nine with an icepick or whip Harry three times?"

"I'm stabbing Seven!" B'Elanna wasted little time making her decision and then thrusting the blade into the astrometrics officer's thigh. It was no secret that the two women weren't exactly on close terms, but still… it should've been a bit more difficult for her. Then again, Harry was barely conscious _and_ Seven had shocked B'Elanna in the previous round. The engineer got lucky and the icepick went in clean, drawing little blood. Of course Seven's nanoprobes would be able to heal the wound much quicker than if the injury had been inflicted on a regular human. Seven also chose to stab Tom. Her accuracy was uncanny and it did little to no damage to the pilot… well, considering what it could have been, at least. A stab was a stab, but he wasn't going to bleed out anytime soon. And then it was the last turn.

"Mr. Paris, would you rather stab Captain Janeway with an icepick or whip Mr. Kim three times?" A devilish grin wound up the host's face as if he already knew what Tom was going to pick. I had a sickening feeling that even I knew what he was going to pick. The pilot looked helplessly down at the tools in front of him, indecisive. Like the last round, the clock wound down.

"Harry's not going to make it anyways." He reasoned, picking up the whip. "Captain, you're still healthy. Somebody has to make it back." Oh god, this was horrible. Tom slowly stood, solemnly dragging himself over to where Harry sat slumped. The ensign didn't sit up; I wasn't even sure if he was awake at this point. Tom delivered the blows, after which Harry fell out of the chair and onto the floor with a heavy thud. One of the assistants stepped forward, fingers digging into Harry's neck and proclaimed the ensign to be dead. Gasps around the table, though we'd all seen in coming. Tom dropped the weapon on the floor and returned to his spot. I saw a few tears escape his eyes. Forced to murder his best friend while his lover sat dying on the other side of the table. Really, she was practically dead; she'd already lost consciousness, propped up only by the support that Tuvok was offering. We all had it bad, but out of the living, Tom had it the worst.

"Let's take another break." The host stood up and left the room without any further interaction. Both Harry and B'Elanna were removed from the room. How much longer could we hold out against this madman?


	3. Eliminations

"We can't just sit here and let him kill us too." Tom angrily sniffed, still mourning the recent loss of his two best friends. "We have to try to escape!"

"You saw what happened last time someone tried to run, Tom." Chakotay shook his head, "We can't risk it. We have to carry on."

"If the pattern continues, the tests will become increasingly dangerous." Seven warned. I couldn't tell if she was onboard with escaping or not. I wasn't even sure if I was onboard with escaping or not.

"Well if we are going to try and do something, we'd better decide quickly." We were alone, aside from two assistants on either side of the room. They didn't look like they could hear us and weren't paying much attention anyways. "Tuvok, do you think you could disable one of the guards?" He nodded once. "Seven, you get the other one. Tom, Chakotay, and I will look for exits. We'll split up from there." There were only two doors, on either side of the room, so it wouldn't take long to rule out the options. Hopefully at least one of them was unlocked.

"If anyone makes it back to the ship, don't wait up for the rest of us." Chakotay agreed, "Get Voyager to a safe distance, and then figure things out from there."

"On the count of three…" And then we were off, scrambling towards any sort of escape. Tuvok had leapt over to the nearest guard, nerve-pinching him and rendering him unconscious. I made it to the door and then turned back to see if the other guard had been taken care of. He hadn't; Seven was just sitting at the table, unmoving. I wanted to shout at her and tell her to get moving, but it would've wasted too much time. If she was convinced that sticking around was better, it was already too late to try and argue with her. Tom turned the doorknob frantically, thankfully finding that it turned with ease. We threw the door open and were about to squeeze through when suddenly the door on the opposite end opened with a bang. One single gunshot. I flinched, suddenly finding myself in an inexplicable shower of blood. I knew it was Tom; he was the only other one near me. Jesus. But I'd made it out the door before the shooter had time to aim again and was hurrying down the hall. Corridor after corridor, I sprinted through doors that seemed to be leading me in circles like some sort of maze.

I was out of breath and out of ways to go; I'd reached a hallway that led to a dead end. What kind of architect had built this damn place? I couldn't turn around and go back; I had a feeling they'd be waiting for me there. Maybe by the time they would find me, Chakotay would have made it out and back to the ship. I sank down to my knees, the recent experiences finally settling down into my mind. Images of the bodies… I couldn't get the gore out of my head. Again, I began to feel nauseated. Leaning forward and to the side, I squeezed out the contents of my stomach. Shaking, staring at the floor in front of me, I wondered if maybe I hadn't survived the transport and this was all just some sort of hell. It couldn't be real. There was no way that something like this could really exist in any universe, any dimension. Even the Hirogen didn't toy with us like this, force us to hurt each other. But I knew it was real by the way the click of the gun from the doorway caused a surge of fear and panic that threatened to burst through my chest. Turning my head towards the noise, I found with no great surprise that my captor was the man of the house himself.

"Please return to the table." The host stiffly waved the weapon, jerking it in a manner that indicated he wanted me to get up. "We haven't finished playing yet." A warning. Why was he warning me and not killing me? Not that I was ungrateful… perhaps he simply wanted the majority of the players to die in-game and not at the hand of his gun. I wanted so desperately to say no, to stand up against his tyranny and be defiant, but that wouldn't help our survival chances. So I ducked my head and returned back to the dining room, where most of the chairs around the table had been removed. I sat back down, Chakotay to my left. Seven now sat across from me, Tuvok to her right. Now that there were only four of us, I wondered how long this would go on. The alien man had never specified how many winners there could be; I'd assumed that everyone who made it to end won, but perhaps the sole survivor was the victor here.

"We thought you'd made it." Chakotay's voice was low enough that I could just make out what he'd said. I knew they were disappointed; hell, I was disappointed with myself as well. I'd had the perfect opportunity and I'd squandered it away. I should have retraced my steps and searched for another door, another way to go. But I'd sat on the ground and waited to be recaptured. Pathetic.

"This time you have a choice between the known and the unknown." A barrel was carried into the room and set down in the corner. A small, sealed envelope placed on the table in front of each of us. "Inside the envelope is the unknown: a card representing something relatively harmless. I don't even know what is inside; the deck is reshuffled each game. How exciting!" None of us laughed or even smiled. The host composed himself and then continued. "You may choose to suffer through whatever is in the card or you may select to have your head held underwater for two minutes. Tuvok, would you rather pick the known or unknown?"

"The unknown." The Vulcan replied, after some consideration. We hadn't been told a time limit, but that wasn't really as much of a factor here. If I understood the round rules correctly, the only person we could hurt was ourselves. It was just about finding the lesser of two evils. The host gestured for Tuvok to open the envelope and he complied, pulling out a white card with a red chain of firecrackers on it.

"Interesting," The host leaned forward to get a better look at the card. "I haven't seen this one in a while. Yes, you must allow a firecracker to go off in your hand." Well… that didn't sound extraordinarily terrible. He'd be burned, sure, but surely it couldn't kill him. An assistant came out and brought the firecracker, which looked relatively harmless. Of course any alien object, especially an explosive, was going to be a little different than what we were used to. But there was no reason to believe that the firecracker was even that powerful; the host surely wouldn't risk any real damage to the mansion. Tuvok was made to stand up and back away from the table a little, then held it uncertainly in the center of his palm. "No, no, you're doing it wrong. Can somebody help him?" An assistant stepped forward and closed his fingers over the explosive, wrapping thick tape around the fist.

"You'll be fine, Tuvok." A blatant lie and I knew it. But I had to say something. Our eyes met once before he averted his gaze, staring at some space above all of our heads. The fuse was lit and about ten seconds later, a loud crackle cut through the silence. The explosive blew the Vulcan's hand clean off, along with some of the forearm. Green sticky liquid gushed from the ghastly wound and onto the plastic that had been put down on the floor. This was where Tuvok lost his Vulcan composure, screaming with such violent fervor that I was tempted to cover my ears. Eyes bulging out of his face as he stared at the place his hand once was, trying fruitlessly to stop the bleeding with his remaining digits. The blood loss was much more rapid than B'Elanna's had been, some of which I'm sure had to do with the biologically quicker heartbeat of a Vulcan in the first place. Tuvok finally collapsed, making an ugly sputtering noise. For his sake, it was almost a relief when he lost consciousness and was put out of his pain.

"What a loss." The host ran a hand through his hair. "I had no idea the blood would be green! What a surprise!" After seeing that the remaining three did not share in his astonishment, the man turned to the person sitting next to me. "Chakotay, would you rather pick the known or the unknown?"

"Even after what I just saw, I think I'll take my chances with the card." Chakotay decided, peeling back the seal of the envelope. On the card was a cartoon drawing of an eye. "What is this?" He thrusted the card towards the host, who actually seemed a little disappointed.

"Oh. How boring. You just have to slit your eye." An assistant quickly came forward and gave the Commander a razor blade. "Here's a mirror if you need it." Procuring a reflective device and setting it up on the table in front of Chakotay.

"I can't do it." Chakotay put the object back down on the table, looking down on it with disgust. "No. Goddamn it, I said no!" Hurting someone else was one thing, but inflicting a wound upon yourself? And the eye? It was worse, so much worse. I wouldn't be able to do it.

"You have to." The host sighed, "And hurry up, will you?" When Chakotay still didn't move, the alien man pulled out his gun and pointed it towards my first officer who was still stubbornly sitting there with his arms crossed.

"Chakotay!" I hissed, wanting to slap him for his stupidity. "You'll live through a slit eye, not a bullet to the head." He looked once at me, shoulders dropping. Knowing that I was right, he picked up the blade by the dull end, looking at himself in the mirror. Holding the sharp piece of metal up to his face as if still contemplating which fate was worse. And then with a flick of the wrist, following through with the command. Chakotay howled with pain as the blade cut through a layer of his eye, quickly dropping the razor blade like a hot iron after the deed was done. His hands came up cover the spot as rocked back and forth, quietly whimpering. I would've put out an arm to comfort him if I hadn't been so afraid of being fired at. The host turned his attention to me; I knew what was coming next.

"Kathryn, would you rather pick the known or the unknown?"

"Two minutes isn't that long. I'll hold my breath." Even though it really _was_ quite a long time and god knew the last time I'd gone swimming. I kept telling myself that even if I lost consciousness, I wouldn't die. They'd pull me out, right? I'd be fine. I was sure that I couldn't die this way. The card just seemed so much worse. I got up and walked over to the barrel, where a burly assistant was waiting. I eyed him cautiously, afraid of some sort of dirty trick.

"He's just there to make sure you don't come up before the bell." The host explained, setting his timer for two minutes. "Are you ready?"

"Ready enough." Sucking in as big of a breath as I could manage, then plunging my face down into the icy cold waters. I felt a hand grab the back of my head, holding it steadily in place. Time ticked on. I could hear my own heartbeat through the water, beating slower and slower as the oxygen in my blood slowly dwindled away. Even more time passed and I wondered if the host was really playing fairly or if he'd extended the time limit without my knowing. I pushed back against the hand now, testing to see if the assistant was paying attention. Damn, the man had too firm a grasp on me. But maybe if I pushed _harder_ …. I began to struggle, knowing that I couldn't hold out much longer. My lungs burned, begging for air. Just when I thought I was about to pass out, I was yanked out of the water by my hair.

"I'm pleasantly surprised." The host clapped, as I gasped and choked. What had I been thinking? I should have just taken whatever the 'unknown' was. "That tends to be a fatal option. Let's see what you would have gotten, had you chosen differently." He suggested, echoing my previous thoughts. I returned to my seat, aware of the water trickling uncomfortably down my face. The card I drew from my envelope had a picture of a tooth on it. "Too bad, that's one of my favorites. You would have had all of your teeth extracted." On second thought, it was a pretty good damn thing I'd taken the barrel. Holy shit. And I'd thought the razor had been bad. "We're moving right along. Seven, would you rather pick the known or the unknown?"

"Unknown." Seven frowned, quickly picking up the envelope and extracting the piece of reinforced paper. Depicted on hers was a barrel with four slashes over it. The ex-borg showed the host what she'd gotten, looking for an explanation.

"What a twist!" Chuckling, the alien man nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, four minutes of the barrel." What? How was that fair?

"You can do it, Seven." I weakly encouraged, though I had to admit I was not so hopeful. I'd barely managed the two minutes; I couldn't even imagine the time doubled. Not even her nanoprobes could help her now.

"Hurry up, we don't have all night." The host snarled, prompting Seven to quickly jump up from the chair. She went and stood by the barrel, looking to be analyzing its contents. Without even asking if she was ready, the assistant quickly grabbed her head and thrusted it under the surface.

"She wasn't ready!" I realized, watching her kick and try to resurface. "She didn't hold her breath!" No response from the host; apparently he didn't care. I hoped that Seven could overcome the assistant with her 'superior' strength, but no such luck. Eyeing the timer, I saw that barely a fourth of the time had passed. The ex-Borg's movements were growing increasingly rapid, head jerking about inside the barrel. Then everything stopped. I desperately prayed that she'd just given up fighting, but seeing the way that she limply hung from the rim of the wooden container didn't fill me with much confidence. The time elapsed and the assistant pulled back the head. I had to turn towards Chakotay instead; I couldn't look at it. My first officer's horrified expression was enough to tell me the result. Seven had drowned. There were only two of us left.

"Great." The host clapped his hands together, "Personally, I had my bets on that one, but clearly I underestimated the pair of you. Let's have a short recess and then we'll begin the final round." Final round. I didn't like the sound of that. We were left completely alone this time, but I didn't have the heart to try and escape again.

"Oh, Chakotay." I sobbed, leaning into his arms. "How can they do this to us?" To the dead officers we'd recently lost. To the officers back on the ship who'd sorely miss said officers.

"We're almost there." My first officer whispered, pushing the damp hair that clung to my face away. I could see now that his injured eye had swollen and discolored. We'd both gotten lucky thus far, but I had a feeling that our luck was about to run out. There was nowhere else to hide; nobody else to take the punishment for us.

"Do you think he'll let one of us go?"

"I don't know. I'd like to hope so." The instant the host walked back into the dining room, Chakotay and I both leaned away from each other, sitting up as straight as we could manage. We were going to take this with dignity.

"For this one I'm going to have to ask you, Kathryn, to move to the other side of the table." It would balance out the table better, but I didn't really see why it mattered. Still, I did as I was told and now faced my first officer. We held each other's gaze for a moment, before turning to face the alien man again. "Now. As I said before, this is the final round. You'll have two minutes to make this decision." An assistant came forward and put a revolver into my hand. Oh god. "Kathryn Janeway, you have a decision to make. You can either shoot Chakotay and so be allowed to return to your ship and continue safely on with your journey. OR. You can both walk out of here alive, but we will keep your ship and crew here with us. What would you rather do?"


	4. Termination

"I can't shoot you." I was almost at a loss for words. How was this an acceptable alternative? "At least if we both walk out of here, nobody else will die."

"You don't know that, Kathryn." Chakotay warned, "He never said we'd be safe here. For all we know, we'd all be subjected to endless rounds of this game until the whole crew is gone." That was true… I hadn't even considered the possibility. "You have to get them home."

"I can't do that." I insisted, though something told me he was right. It would be better for the majority of people involved if I chose the shoot my first officer. That's what a good captain would do. But what about a good friend? "What would I say if we did make it home? That I'd murdered you for the sake of the ship?"

"Yes! I'm considered a criminal anyways."

"That doesn't make it right!" I wasn't even sure if I could bring myself to physically go through with the act. Then, an idea blossomed in my mind. "Shoot me instead."

"That wasn't an option, my dear woman." The host cut in, "One minute remaining to decide." If we let the time run out, I was willing to bet that the alien would just as soon have us both shot and killed. What did it matter to him? Chakotay was right; it'd be selfish of me to ground the entire crew just to save one life. Chakotay and I silently looked to each other. I was just stalling, postponing the inevitable. Praying that someone would swoop in and save me from having to do anything more.

"Kathryn, I-" Chakotay started, but didn't have a chance to finish. His attention had been diverted to a red stain that was growing in the middle of his chest that followed the sound of a loud snap. The light grey undershirt did little to hide the blood that was freely oozing from the wound. Chakotay's eyes met mine for what we knew was the last time, before they rolled back and he slumped forward against the table, unable to complete his sentence. Hands now shaking wildly, I dropped the pistol. Keep yourself together, I told myself. Starfleet captains didn't cry in public, especially not front of alien races. And especially not after shooting and killing their first officers. Oh Jesus, what had I done? Had there been another alternative that we'd failed to see? Could this have been prevented?

"Bravo, bravo." The host rose now, summoning for the assistants to come and take the body away. "Well played. For a minute there, I thought you were going to go the other way. But I knew you'd come around in the end." Forcing me to my feet, shaking my hand vigorously when all I could offer was a limp flick of the wrist. "I can tell you two were very close, but you made the right decision." Had I really? Looking around the room, I could see the blood splatted in the various places where my officers had died. Many of them in order to protect me. It wasn't right! I should have been the first to die! What kind of captain was I? Could I even stand to call myself that anymore? I'd let them down. I'd failed. The longer I stood there, the worse I felt.

"I think I'd like to leave now, if you'll allow it."

"Certainly. Right this way." The host ushered me through the other door, into a long hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. There were no other room, except for whatever lie on the other side of the door all the way at the end of the hall. I didn't exactly trust that the alien would deliver on any of his promises, but it didn't matter. I wasn't afraid anymore. If he was going to kill me, so be it. Not to say that I _wanted_ to die, but I was tired of constantly checking to make sure both of his hands were unoccupied.

Through the door was a morgue of sorts. All the dead bodies for my former officers lie on silver slabs, facing upwards. They were arranged in the order in which they'd died. Still fully clothed and covered in blood (some more than others). I asked the Host then if we could at least take the bodies back, in order to give them a proper Starfleet funeral service. The alien evaded my question, saying instead that I was almost there. Almost where? A transporter room perhaps? We paused in front of the door, the Host suddenly looking a little uneasy.

"Before we continue on, I think we should talk."

"About what?" Nothing would surprise me at this point. Was he going to admit to being a serial killer? Try to imprison me for the murder of my crewmates? Propose?

"I'd like to introduce myself properly." A small chuckle. "My name is Jevan." He offered out a hand but this time, I didn't shake it. Knowing his real name (if it really was his real name) changed nothing. "You and your officers have been filmed tonight for public use. The entertainment industry here is very cutthroat; we have to come up with unique ideas if we want to make it anywhere. This program is very popular, but unfortunately relies solely on outsiders like yourself, who have no idea how the game works."

"That's sick." I found myself echoing the thoughts that Harry had previously voiced.

"Maybe." Jevan shrugged, getting out a key now to unlock the door in front of us. "I have a feeling that your episode will be very appealing to viewers; it was quite emotionally driven. Sometimes we get brutes who would kill without a second thought and sometimes we get peace-kissing cultures who refuse to do anything. It can get quite boring." I rolled my eyes, refusing to further engage in such talk. I wasn't there for anybody's amusement. Jevan opened the door and held it open, allowing me to step inside. I froze, incapable of comprehending the sight before me. All of my officers walked about, talking and breathing and just _living_. It was a circular room, with beds lining the walls. Chakotay was just sitting up in one of them, rubbing his temple as Tuvok and Tom spoke to him in hushed tones.

"B'Elanna!" I cried, launching myself towards the nearest person. The engineer didn't so much as look at me. I tried to make contact with her again with no luck.

"They can't hear you, Kathryn." Jevan was suddenly by my side. I reached out to touch the half-Klingon, but my hand went right through her shoulder. "As far as they're concerned, we don't exist." What was that supposed to mean? "We've developed a most advanced system of virtual reality. You're still inside the computer system, which is why they can't sense you." Maybe he could tell I was still skeptical, because he then pulled me away from the officer and towards a pair of beds.

"That's me…" It was unimaginably unnerving to see one's own form strapped down to a bed, unfamiliar device wrapped tightly around the forehead. Perhaps this was another game… some sort of test to see if I really deserved to win. In the bed next to 'mine', there was an older gentlemen who looked rather like… "You-"

"The real me." Jevan admitted. "Yes, I've been hosting these games for a great many seasons. It's easier for the audience if my virtual form remains unchanging throughout the years."

"So none of it really happened." I wasn't sure I bought it. I mean we had the holodeck, but this was different.

"Oh it certainly happened, just not on your physical form. The devices," He pointed to the things on our bodies heads, "allow us to transmit signals directly to your brain, stimulating all sorts of responses. The pain and emotion you experienced while playing was real, in a sense. You understand why you had to keep you in the dark, so to speak; you had to really believe there was danger in order for the game to be played out properly." At a loss for words or ideas, I simply stared down at my other self. "Forgive me, this must be terribly disorienting. I'll return you now, see you in a moment." Before I had time to question his words, the world suddenly went dark, eyes suddenly closed. When I opened them, I found that I was now the person strapped down to the bed, a strange pressure squeezing at my head and giving off a prickly sort of sensation. A groan slipped through my mouth and my officers were suddenly at my side, speaking too many different words for me to comprehend at once. The devices and straps were removed and I was able to sit up, head still spinning.

"It wasn't re-" Tom started, but I quickly cut him off with a wave of a hand.

"I know. He explained." Thought not clearly enough. I was seriously supposed to believe it'd all been virtual? We'd been through some pretty weird things here in the Delta Quadrant, but I was still struggling to wrap my mind around it all. I'd thought they'd all died… I was supposed to just pretend none of it had happened? I could still taste the j'Karr, hear the sound the whip made across Harry's back, feel the wet strands of hair clinging to my face even though in this reality it was dry.

"Hello again." The alien drew our attention back to himself, slowly climbing down from the bed. "How are we feeling?" None of us answered, but it did little to deter him. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"Hardly." I snarled.

"Too bad. I'd love it if you'd stay and try some of our other games." The alien insisted, "They're a little less theatric of course, but they can be fun with the right group."

"We're in a hurry to get home. Thank you for the offer, though." Diplomatic.

"Fair enough. You'll be compensated greatly for playing along, of course. I wasn't lying about the energy for your replicator. Anything else you need- bio-neural gel packs, warp plasma, spare parts- anything at all, we'd be happy to pay you in full." The best news I'd heard all day. The only good news as of late.

"Tuvok, can you manage the negotiations?" I didn't think I could stand to talk to the alien much more without completely ripping into him for threatening our lives like that.

"Certainly." The Vulcan nodded, not questioning why I'd passed up the opportunity. Jevan took Tuvok back into the main building in order to make the arrangements. With the mastermind gone, the crew visibly relaxed. I saw that B'Elanna and Tom were engaged in an intense conversation that ended in a quick kiss, a rare public display of affection from the pair. Seven looked quite content to stand there in silence, while Neelix nervously paced about the room, anxious to get back. Chakotay came and stood next to my bed.

"Are you alright?" He softly asked, after a moment.

"I could ask you the same question. You're the one who died." You're the one who I shot. Chakotay just smiled and neither of us answered because neither of us were alright. "I'm sorry I had to do that."

"I know." Nothing more, nothing less. I wondered if it had hurt, like really hurt. Not just the wound, but dying. They'd all experienced it except me. I knew it was silly, but I felt like I'd missed out on something. Like the odd (wo)man out.

"You were saying something before." His half-completed sentence suddenly busted to fire in my mind and I knew that I had to know. "What was it?"

"It's not important anymore." Chakotay averted my gaze, instead deciding to take the moment to pan the room. I suspected what the words were, but I didn't put them into his mouth. He could blame it on the near-death experience. Or was it a death experience? It wasn't long afterwards that Tuvok returned, successful with the negotiations. We wouldn't have to make any pit stops for at least another month if we rationed things wisely. Good, I didn't want to have to stop anywhere near this godforsaken planet. The proper thing to do would be to have a meeting and debrief everyone, discuss what we'd been through, but it just didn't feel right. We'd all been there. Most of us knew all that had happened, through one way or another. It seemed best just to give everyone some time.

It was weeks before my nightmares quieted, though I heard that for others it took longer. Tuvok had spent an entire week in solitary meditation, eventually requesting a short relief from duty in order to pursue whatever conclusion he'd come to. Seven had developed a sort of water-phobia that prevented her from even drinking a glass of water for the longest time. Harry wouldn't turn around to access the consoles at the back of his station, in fear of leaving his back exposed. As for the others, I'm sure there were effects they didn't let show through. I never did find out what it was that Chakotay was going to say. Most of us had effectively pushed the experience to the back of our minds until one duty shift, when a young ensign had come up to the bridge to ask for my opinion on something.

"Captain!" She handed me a PADD that contained potential menus for a party we were throwing in the upcoming week. "Neelix asked me to come up with a good recipe for the meat, but I'm not sure what goes better with the side dishes. Would you rather have steak or chicken?" It was like the entire air on the bridge had changed. All involved officers tensed, both at the wording and the food option.

"Chicken." I hoarsely replied, forcing myself to answer in the most polite way I could muster. "I'm sure Neelix would agree." Unaware of the discomfort, the ensign thanked me and returned down to the lower decks. We shared in a nervous laughter, probably never going be able to hear those words again without a similar reaction. If that's what it took to consider the consequences of our decisions, fine. As long as it didn't get anyone killed. Again.

* * *

 **A/N: I know it's a bit of a cop out, but I couldn't stand to leave them all dead haha. I'd love some feedback on it, but otherwise thanks for reading! :)**


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